Computer Emergency
by Battle Fries
Summary: Two tech-centered shows set in Los Angeles will soon collide!   MAY 15, 2011: It has been announced that Chuck will be getting a fifth season and final season, so I will restart this fanfic after that for the sake of continuity.
1. Chapter One: The IntelliCell Again

CHAPTER ONE: The IntelliCell Again

* * *

"Please," said Chuck Bartowski, "take my wallet, my keys, whatever you want. Just, please not the watch?" At the moment, Chuck was being held at gunpoint in the back of a black SUV that was currently en route to he knew not where. He had been captured by these very interesting people some time ago (he wasn't sure how long precisely, but it hadn't been a day yet, at the very least), and found himself surprisingly unafraid of the larger man with the gun who looked like he could use a shave. After all, Chuck had gone toe to toe with a professional killer in a 747's cargo hold armed with naught but a fencing foil, and emerged triumphant (for the moment).

But the other person in the back of the van did scare him. Chuck knew from his own experiences, both with and without Sarah and Casey, that she was a professional spy and most likely knew several ways to kill him with or without pain.

The scary part of the equation was that she looked barely of legal age, if even that. And already, she wore the cold, emotionless mask of a deadly enemy agent. "It's not a watch," she said in a frighteningly calm, level voice. "It regulates your nervous system with bio-electric feedback."

"So, you can see why I'd appreciate you not removing it?" Chuck asked hopefully, wondering how in the world this girl knew what the Governor was at just a glance.

"Look kid," said the man with the gun. "You followed us, very noticeably, I might add, and we are onto what's going on back there. So spare yourself some pain and just tell us what you know."

The man had all the elegance of Casey on a bad day. They wouldn't kill him while he still had information they needed, Chuck was hoping. And that was considerably more information than he imagined they realized.

* * *

EARLIER THAT DAY:

Chuck walked into the brand new, just out of the package Buy More and let himself take it all in. Eight months had passed since the old Buy More had been demolished by some unfortunately placed explosives that had not-as-unfortunately been wrongly blamed on Jeff and Lester. But now, Chuck was back at his day job at the Nerd Herd.

It had been two months since the Buy More had drawn him back in, under General Manager Diane Beckman. After being lectured on the many ways he could be forced back into spy life without his family and friends ever knowing what had happened to him, Chuck had consented to come back to work. Morgan was enthused, Sarah was supportive, and Ellie… Poor Ellie had taken it hard, but was loath to admit she was unable to do anything about it. At least she was in the loop now, and Chuck vowed that she would be as much as he could safely keep her there.

The Buy More was only now having its Grand Reopening, and Chuck was quickly beset with customers looking for help that they just couldn't find at Large-Mart. There was a brief lull in the line before a dark-haired woman who appeared to be in her thirties walked up.

"Welcome to Buy More! How can I…" Chuck trailed off as his eyes fluttered and a number of images passed through his mind.

**Mug shot; Pescadero State Hosptial**

**Audiovisual recordings; patient records; Pescadero State Hospital**

**Document; breakout from Pescadero State Hospital; 1995**

**Documents; Cyberdyne Systems Corporation; now defunct**

**Document; bombing of Cyberdyne Systems Corporation facility in Los Angeles; 1995**

**Warrant; murder; Miles Bennet Dyson; Director of Special Projects; Cyberdyne Systems Corporation; 1995**

**Audiovisual recording; bank lobby; 1999**

**Document; suicide bombing; bank vault; 1999**

**Video recording; cell phone; 2007**

**SARAH CONNOR – PRESUMED DEAD; 1999 – POSSIBLY ALIVE; AT LARGE; EXTREMELY DANGEROUS**

"…help you?" Chuck managed to finish weakly as he looked into the eyes of the terrorist in front of him who was holding a cell phone in front of her.

"Oh, it's this phone. It stopped working a few hours ago. I was hoping you could…"

"Sure thing! No problem!" Chuck said as he picked up, "The InteliCell," he said heavily. Oh, the irony of it all, a voice was saying in his head. "Yeah, sure, there's a little screw here in the back that pops loose every now and then." He took a tiny screwdriver out of his shirt pocket. "Just give it a few quick turns, aaand… Good as new," he said, trying to capture the spirit of his first conversation ever with Sarah Walker.

Now another woman named Sarah was opening up her phone, testing it out a bit, it seemed, then turned to him with a smile. "Thanks a lot. How much do I owe you?" she said warmly enough.

"Oh, no charge. Just a simple service you can always find on the house here at Buy More." Chuck winced at his own voice. "That sounded too much like a sales pitch, didn't it?"

"A bit, yeah. Thanks for the help, though." And with that she walked away from the Nerd Herd desk and out the door.

Chuck had not yet had time to master the entrances to CASTLE from the Buy More, so he was forced to head to the Orange Orange across the mini-mall. Unfortunately, this took him roughly parallel to the path that Sarah Connor was taking back to her black SUV.

* * *

BACK IN THE CONNOR'S SUV:

"So, really, this is all a big misunderstanding. I was really just on my way to get a smoothie at the Orange Orange, and…"

"That building houses an entrance to the underground facility," said the creepy spy girl.

"You don't say?" said Chuck nervously. Silently, he prayed that Sarah and Casey would find him before these people did something that involved physical harm to one Charles Irving Bartowski.

* * *

* * *

Thank you all for reading. This is my first fanfic in years, so any constructive criticism or feedback of any kind would be very welcome. I'll post Chapter Two soon, and I'll try to keep it going as steadily as I can. A work very much in progress. Many Thanks once more!


	2. Chapter Two: Then and Now

Chapter TWO: Then and Now

* * *

ONE WEEK AGO:

One year. One entire year, thought John Connor as he looked at the calendar. That was how much time had passed between his confrontation with Jesse Flores in her apartment about the girl she had so callously used in a futile attempt to wedge him away from his guardian. One year since Derek Reese had decided that while John might forgive and forget, Derek Reese was not John Connor.

He knew that Jesse was too big a risk to keep around, and he had half expected it to end like that anyway, but even so… _We all die for John Connor._ Derek had once said that to him, and to this John Connor, at least, it felt as though Jesse Flores had been the first to do so.

So far, thankfully, she had been the only one to die for him. Sarkissian was completely self-defense, and John had reluctantly forgiven himself for that. But today, they ran a similar risk, for they had just moved into a new safe house, and a routine drive through downtown Burbank told them that it might not be as safe as they thought.

"So, you're saying that there's a secret underground facility right beneath a mini-mall in the middle of downtown." John couldn't blame Derek for his skepticism. It sounded totally ridiculous.

"Yes," said Cameron simply. "The pressure of the asphalt in the parking lot is not consistent with solid ground underneath, nor is it in a pattern in keeping with regular sewage and natural gas pipelines."

"There are stores there," said Sarah patiently, though grinding her teeth. "They have basements for storage. We've just not really had time to really shop around, you know?" It was a probe, John realized. His mother would never concede a potential risk so easily.

"This facility was also one of the first human cells ready to offer actual resistance to Skynet after Judgment Day. It was one of Skynet's first major targets in the area.

That was definitely something. "So, how do we get in? There's bound to be guards, a security system, not to mention sneaking past a few hundred civilians without drawing attention to ourselves." Sarah seemed not to have an answer, so she vented, as she so often did, by making it seem like Cameron's fault.

"We need more information before attempting to infiltrate. Disguising ourselves as civilians in need of merchandise would yield an optimal chance of success," was Cameron's analysis.

"So, basically," John said, "you want us to shop around and look for anything out of the ordinary?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for explaining," said John with a small smirk, wondering if Cameron would have any reaction to his small joke.

Cameron did cock her head to the side slightly, but other than that, gave no sign of anything out o the ordinary.

"All right," said Sarah. "We'll split up into two teams. John and I will take one store, then you two will take another, and then we'll switch. Come back each day and do the same thing at different stores.

"Mom," said John, not wanting to have to pretend to be a kid in such a need of his mom.

"That strategy is sound in theory, but not in practice," said Cameron. "The lighthouse," she said by way of an explanation.

Sarah glared daggers at the TOK-715. "You're skating on thin ice, Tin Miss," she warned.

Derek shook his head. "I hate to say it, but it has a point. You did try to lose us back there. And we haven't covered an area large enough to have to split up in a while."

"Look mom," said John, hoping to defuse the situation before it erupted. "We don't exactly look like an average family. Derek can handle some stuff on his own, and so can you. It'll look less suspicious if two teenagers are looking for something together than if one of us is with an overprotective parent slash uncle."

Sarah scowled, and John thought he knew why. 'Two teenagers,' he had said. Not 'two siblings,' not 'a brother and sister,' but something more along the lines of what he couldn't help but think more often these days than in the past. "She's proven herself." John said with a note of finality, getting in a preemptive reaction to his mother's upcoming objection.

A sigh of defeat escaped Sarah Connor. "Fine, we'll try it your way. Shouldn't be a big deal, I hope."

* * *

ONE WEEK LATER:

Sarah got on the phone as soon as she exited the Buy More. "We have it. Meet back at the car. Let's go," she said to John on the phone. Derek was already waiting by the car, but then he was in motion. Sarah looked to her right, and saw that weird clerk walking practically right behind her, and in a bit of a hurry.

It didn't take long to get him in the back without a fight. Sarah drove, John was up front in the passenger seat, and Derek and the machine were introducing themselves.

* * *

"You don't say," said the man whose name tag identified him as 'Chuck.' Casual denial with obvious guilt in his vocal patterns. Still, for someone who had just been abducted by strangers, Cameron was reading less elevated hormonal and adrenal levels in this individual than others in prior similar situations. He had some training, at the very least.

"Yes, I do," Cameron replied literally.

"A 'secret underground facility' beneath a Buy More? That'd be pretty interesting if it was true, might make a good TV show, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"You're lying," said Derek. More of a snarl, and he was right. "You have a very good idea what we're talking about."

"Your eyes went up into your head when you saw our companion. You followed her," Cameron said quietly. "We will damage you if you do not answer us truthfully."

"Damage! Really? There's no need for that, is there? I'm sure we can come to some sort of understanding.

Cameron ran another analysis of 'Chuck,' and found an anomaly she hadn't been able to identify earlier. The device on his wrist was not just a neural regulator, it seemed. There was a signal being emitted outward.

"His watch has a tracking device built into it, but removing the watch could result in termination." This was a dilemma. Aside from needing him alive to talk, Cameron had slowly been assimilating John's lessons on when to kill, and why, and (more importantly, he would say) when and why _not_ to kill.

Derek shouted up front. "Stop the van, Sarah! Somewhere out of sight! We're being tracked."

Chuck looked up at them both, looking very nervous. He was muttering under his breath, though Cameron could detect nor recording device. He kept repeating one word: Sarah. It was more apparent than ever that he knew something. Soon, they would find out what. And if not, then Cameron would do what she was built for.

* * *

In case I didn't say it earlier, I own nothing! Thanks for any and all feedback!


	3. Chapter Three: Q&A

Chapter THREE: Q&A

* * *

Chuck felt the van coming to a stop, and the back door opened to reveal that they were parked inside a warehouse that had a rather rusty, used look to it. It all felt somehow familiar.

The man and the girl dragged him out of the car, and Sarah Connor and a young man came forward, one dragging a chair, the other holding rope which was soon binding him to said chair. Now that he had a better look at them, he recognized the boy and the girl from his flash, but the rough-looking man was an unknown.

The young man had a skeptical look. "This is the guy who set off the alarms? Mom, do you know what the Nerd Herd is? They fix laptops and stuff."

"Cell phones," said the Other Sarah, as Chuck was now forcing himself to think of her. "But clerks aren't supposed to look like they're having seizures when they look at you, and then suddenly tense up."

"Nor do they typically have neural regulators slash tracking devices disguised as watches," said the gruff man.

Chuck was getting nervous, as his captors were smart enough to not merely use handcuffs to keep him bound (though breaking his thumbs was not a happy prospect, anyway). "It does tell the time rather well," Chuck chimed in faux-cheerfully.

"Shut up!" barked the Other Sarah. "Now, you can tell us what you know willingly, or else we can…"

"Torture me?" Chuck asked nervously, but confident that his answer was correct. "I will have you know that I have a very low threshold for pain, and will probably not be able to remain conscious for very long should you choose to test my limits. Which, as I said, are not very high." The Intersect did, actually, have information on resisting interrogation, but Chuck didn't see any need to let his captors know that.

The boy looked almost sympathetic. "Okay, so he has some medical issues. People do have them, you know. And you said he was being too obvious in following you, mom? Maybe he really doesn't know anything."

_Mom?_ Why was this woman taking her son (and daughter?) with her on her terrorist escapades? But then Chuck thought about his own mother, and what very little information he had been able to glean about her true life over the past eight months. So many false leads and dead ends had left Chuck with only one piece of information: a mostly blacked-out file showing an operative, code-name 'Frost,' presumed captured.

It was comforting to know that his mother hadn't just abandoned him and Ellie, but on the other hand, what would Chuck's life had been like had his mother included the rest of them? For that matter, what if their dad had never gone into hiding, but kept his children in the loop?

Looking at all the guns around him at the moment, Chuck conceded that perhaps his own parents had the right idea. "I know what it's like to have parents who run risky lives," said Chuck quietly. It was a hunch, but if he could just stall until the cavalry came… "My mom left us when I wasn't even ten years old, and my dad was sort of out of sight for a while."

"What are you going on about?" said Other Sarah menacingly. She pointed a shotgun at him that looked as though it had seen plenty of use. "I told you to shut up!"

"On the other hand, maybe it was better that my mom wasn't around, getting me into life-threatening situations like this on otherwise normal days."

The young man was not, it seemed, taking this line of conversation as well as Chuck had hoped. "I get what you're trying to say, but you really have no idea what you are talking about," he said with patience that sounded like it was starting to wear thin a bit. "And even if you do have seizures, why is your 'treatment' disguised as a watch? Which also has a tracking device in it, right?"

The mother and son, it seemed, were the leaders of this merry band of terrorists. It was disturbing to hear such authority in one so young. "My dad invented this device for the express purpose of treating this very rare condition which, to my knowledge, only three people have ever had." This, thankfully, he could answer completely truthfully. Still it felt distasteful to have to say…

"Three?" said Other Sarah quietly.

Chuck sighed. "Yes, three," he said. Why did there have to be a third. It felt dirty knowing that Shaw had actually been compatible with the Intersect, not to mention actually uploading it.

Now that he looked at his captors, they looked as though he had said something of significance. The son was looking at his mom with a reluctant look on his face. The gruff man looked like he was groaning silently. The girl was… Not in sight. A lookout? And Other Sarah looked stunned.

"Tell me," Other Sarah growled quietly, "who the other two are, and what is this 'very rare condition' you seem to have?"

And now the part that Chuck had hoped he wouldn't have to face. He had said something of apparent meaning to these crazies, and now they wanted an answer, or they would kill him, he was sure of it.

"Trouble," said someone who was swiftly approaching. It was the girl who had been in back with him. "The warehouse is surrounded on all sides by law enforcement, and a helicopter is flying overhead. Strike teams will be here soon."

Other Sarah ran off a string of expletives, her son looked worried, gruff man was also swearing and loading his weapon, and creepy girl was just standing there.

Chuck inclined his head, unable to move anything else. "I think my ride is here. Can I go home now?"

* * *

Next chapter will run simultaneously with this one. Probably from Sarah/Casey's POV, but possibly the Connor clan's.

I own nothing! Feedback is much appreciated. Hope you're liking the story so far.


	4. Chapter Four: Yogurt and Guns

Chapter FOUR: Yogurt and Guns

* * *

EARLIER THAT DAY – ORANGE ORANGE

Chuck was late. Chuck was _never_ late for anything remotely resembling a date with Sarah Walker. But now, during a convenient and government-sponsored overlap in their (cover) breaks, when Chuck was _supposed_ to be meeting her here to talk about the all important 'where do we go from here now that our lives have some semblance of normalcy' question, he was simply not here.

Morgan could be responsible, but that was unlikely. He could be clingy, but he was also perhaps the most loyal person Sarah had ever met. He was sweet in his mild buffoonery, but he knew when to back off, and Chuck had been the one to stress how important this talk was.

Jeff and Lester could have pulled one of their stunts, except for the fact that they were currently on the run. No, they hadn't actually blown up the Buy More, and yes, there were no charges or investigations of any kind against them, thanks to 'Team Bartowski's' intervention, but one had to account for the fact that Jeff and Lester were, well, Jeff and Lester.

Beckman could have called Chuck in for a private briefing, but during a break on his first day back? Without her or Casey? It didn't seem right.

Looking at her watch, Sarah realized a full five minutes had passed since this train of thought started. Now Chuck was _very_ late, by their standards, and that left one other option: trouble.

Taking out her phone, Sarah dialed Chuck's cell. No answer. She tried the Nerd Herd desk, where a very helpful CIA agent told her that she hadn't seen Mr. Bartowski for about twenty minutes. Now, she called Casey.

"Yeah?" came the gruff reply.

"Meet me in Castle. Chuck's missing." No other words were needed, so she hung up. Casey was the last one for idle conversation, and in a few minutes, she was joined by both Casey and General Beckman looking at a monitor that was tracking Chuck's watch.

"What was the Intersect's last known location, and when was it?" asked Beckman tensely.

"Approximately twenty-five minutes ago, heading out of the Buy More after helping a customer. Calling up the security tapes… Got it." Casey rifled through the footage until it showed a thirty-something brunette woman getting some sort of assistance from Chuck. "Running facial recognition sequences… Got it."

A file came up with several charges appended to it. "Sarah Connor, born 1965, sentenced to a mental facility after an attempted bombing of a computer factory, escaped in 1995, wanted for murder and terrorism charges dated shortly thereafter, blew up a bank from inside the vault in 1999."

"Wait a minute, Casey. That woman is way too young to be 45, and she's dead. So, what is she doing here and now, and what does she want with Chuck?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Walker. But, she hates computers. Chuck fixes 'em. Not much, but I'll take it over nothing."

Sarah couldn't help but notice that Beckman looked pensive, which was rare. She was usually a take-charge kind of woman, quick to speak her mind. "General?" said Sarah. "Is there anything you know about this woman that isn't in her file?"

Beckman stood up straight and took a deep breath. She looked troubled. "Sarah Connor was a target of a highly dangerous killer in 1984. This man, one man, mind you, followed her into a police station full of armed officers and killed almost everyone in the building, coming out none the worse for wear. He later appeared in 1995, helping Sarah Connor escape from Pescadero State Hospital. Connor was institutionalized there because she believed that man was actually some sort of sophisticated machine that was targeting her son. She was paranoid and delusional, and most likely still is. She also has a way of beating odds stacked heavily against her. Police casualties around Connor were almost always catastrophic."

"What, so she used a killer robot against them?" said Casey with his usual sarcasm.

"Connor might say something along those lines, and she would believe it. She is a fanatic as radical as the most zealous Al Qaeda operative. And if she has the Intersect..."

"Then Connor has enough information to do some serious damage on a large scale."

"Bartowski always did have a low threshold for pain," Casey agreed.

"The Intersect can withstand interrogation, to an extent," said Beckman, "but a rescue mission is already underway. CIA and NSA teams are following Chuck's homing device, and we will be taking a chopper."

"You're coming with us, General?" said Sarah, a bit unsure about this decision.

"This operation is my responsibility, Agent Walker. That means that Chuck's safety is very much my concern." Did Beckman's face just soften up a bit? No, that just wasn't physically possible.

Sarah immediately went to the weapons locker and suited up. "Well, what are we waiting for, then?"

* * *

LATER – UNMARKED WAREHOUSE

Casey hopped off the chopper with Walker and half a dozen other agents alongside him onto the roof of the warehouse where Chuck was being held. They walked to the door leading inside, and after a silent countdown, Casey kicked in the door and led the team downstairs. The other teams were also converging form all sides on the ground. After rounding several corners on a catwalk, they found a ladder that led down to the floor. Large crates bracketed them on either side.

Casey signaled to four of the team to go one way, and Walker and two others would follow him. Casey knew that Walker must be chafing at not taking the lead and charging in, guns blazing, but she was too attached to Chuck to lead the mission effectively. She could certainly take orders well enough, and quite frankly, she deserved to come along. In Casey's personal opinion, she deserved to take the lead, but it wasn't his call.

They rounded a corner, and came face to face with a teenage girl, dressed as a civilian. But, with someone like this Connor character involved, the kid could still be dangerous. She was unarmed, though, and seemed to just be standing there. "Federal agents! Don't move!" he barked to the girl.

She didn't move. She was standing perfectly still; far too still, though she did look at them almost curiously. Casey gestured for the two agents he hadn't met yet to arrest her. They moved forward, and suddenly, they were flying through the air as the girl picked them up and simply tossed them away as if they were garbage bags.

Casey opened fire at the girl with a short barrage that would quickly fell even a foe wearing a bulletproof vest. It helped that Walker also fired, and her barrage lasted a bit longer.

The girl, however, did not fall over dead. Nor did she move at all. She simply tilted her head sideways a bit, and then moved forward towards them.

"Fall back!" Casey ordered, though only Walker was with him anymore. The girl was practically herding them now, and what should have been effective suppressing fire against an armored vehicle only gave the girl mild pause.

All too soon, they found themselves backed right into a crate, the large and heavy door of which the small girl effortlessly closed, shutting them in.

"Dammit! What the hell was that?" Sarah hissed. Casey was thinking the same thing. What kind of person could take that kind of beating and not even twitch? Not even make a sound or move a facial muscle? "You don't think, Casey, that Connor might…"

"I don't want to think about that, Walker. We're locked in, so we're stuck until the others come to get us. Best not to stress out over what can't be helped."

* * *

ONE HOUR LATER

Sarah was more than restless; she was totally freaked out. Was Connor really not insane after all? Were there really killer robots that looked human out there? But why would she ally herself with something that tried to kill her son? Maybe she'd been captured and was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome? She was definitely mentally unhinged; her mug shot was practically feral.

The sound of the crate opening brought Sarah to her wits, and she and Casey trained their weapons on the door. It creaked open, and a team of friendlies came streaming in, led by Beckman.

"Did you find Chuck? Is he safe?" Sarah practically begged, not quite herself at the moment.

Beckman sighed and took off her glasses. "We found the tracking device, but not the Intersect. And Connor escaped. We assume that she still has Bartowski."

So that was it, then. This mad woman had Chuck, had _her_ Chuck, and was able to take on a number of trained NSA and CIA teams working in perfect coordination, and escape.

"We'll get her. _I'll_ get her," Sarah vowed with bitterest hate.

* * *

I own not a thing. Next chapter, back to the Connors + Chuck.


	5. Chapter Five: Unnecessary Discomfort

CHAPTER FIVE: Unnecessary Discomfort

* * *

Sarah swore under her breath. She had expected Kaliba agents to come looking after a while. The police, on the other hand, were not even close to being on Sarah's radar, especially not so soon after one lowly clerk was taken.

All of this told Sarah that Chuck was no simple clerk, but he might have knowledge of government projects. It would make sense that if they were working on some sort of classified project here, then they would be prepared for nastier contingencies. A top secret government facility would definitely qualify as the type of place likely to survive Judgment Day, she figured.

"Time to move. Cameron, untie Chuck and cover the rest of us. Meet up back at the safe house."

"Wha- Untie me? You're letting me go?" said Chuck, his eyes widening. "Thank you so much. I am really…"

"We're taking you with us," Sarah cut him off.

"…not liking that idea as much as being let go," Chuck decided to finish his sentence anyway.

"John, Derek, go get us a ride," she told them, and they left to sneak out and hot wire a car. She turned back to Chuck. "Just, how long can you last without that watch, anyway?" inquired Sarah. She didn't want to kill him, so long as he had information. And he was one of three, he had said. The three dots came back to mind again. What did it all mean?

"Well, I don't know. It depends on how much my condition acts up, I think. And it acts up very unpredictably, I might add."

Chuck's thus-far cheeky answers now struck Sarah as less of a hapless idiot and more of that of an in-control professional stalling for time. Still, he did seem sincere to a degree. Sarah's instincts told her that Chuck really didn't know how long he could last. It made sense if he had never tested those limits.

"Well, it's coming off now," Sarah said, and grabbed Chuck's wrist with one hand and yanked the watch off with the other.

Chuck let out a small sound of protest as the watch came off, and something else came along with it. A small chip, hidden between the bottom of the watch and Chuck's skin slid out and onto the floor. A tiny light flickered on it.

Sarah smirked in triumph. "So, care to tell me which one of these is the tracking device and which one is the thing you need to live? If you don't tell me then I _will_ destroy both of them."

Chuck looked as though he was doing some quick thinking as to how he might get out of this, but then, after a moment, his shoulders slumped in apparent defeat. "The watch keeps me alive," he said quietly. _Not feeling quite so cheeky anymore_, she thought.

Derek and John chose that moment to come back. "No way out to find a car," said John. They have us cut off. These guys aren't LAPD. They look tougher than SWAT, too. We'll need to clear a path out of here."

"Which means, we need to stick with Cameron," said Sarah reluctantly. She didn't like the machine, but it served a purpose.

Speak of the Devil; it reappeared not a few moments later, already with a few holes in her clothing. "I have disabled eight federal agents, but more are on the way."

"Well, looks like we need to clear a way out of here. Is there any part of the warehouse that they're not covering? A corner, and alley, anyplace you can punch us a hole?"

"Standby," it said. It walked around slowly in a small circle. "There," it pointed. "Beyond that wall is an alley with no guards. No doors or windows along the wall. No agents guarding it."

"Good. Let's go." Sarah grabbed Chuck by the arm, holding her shotgun in the other hand.

Chuck looked rather panicky for someone who had so much help coming his way. "Um, not to be rude or anything, but, how are we going to go through a solid wall? Do we have a portal gun or something?"

Cameron spoke up quietly. "No such thing. Don't need one." She walked up to the brick wall and began hammering away with her coltan fists.

Sarah would have made a crack at the look on Chuck's face if they didn't have a swarm of feds hot on their tail. For now, they had a ways to go. No sooner than they were through the wall did Cameron start punching through the wall of the adjacent building. Sarah had to hand the machine credit; while this alley might not be guarded, the streets on either end would be, at least directly surrounding the warehouse. And they only had so much time before the feds searched the large building and found their escape route.

Another ten minutes or so and they were sneaking out the back entrance of an empty shoe-and luggage repair shop. They found a dark green van that, while not ideal, would be good enough for now. John set to hot-wiring it while Derek and Cameron stood guard and Sarah watched over Chuck.

"You guys look like you have a lot of practice at this sort of thing," Chuck said casually.

"We do," said Sarah simply. She wasn't in the mood to indulge Chuck's apparent need for constant conversation.

A revving from the engine told them they were good to go. "Derek, you drive. John, shotgun." Sarah forced Chuck into the back seat, where he was joined by Cameron. Sarah took the middle row to herself. Chuck didn't look dangerous, but she wanted herself between him and John.

"Drive," she said, and Derek took them away slowly and quietly. Once she was confident they weren't being followed, she turned back to their captive. "Now, then, you seem all right, so I'm going to hold onto this for now," Sarah said, about to slip Chuck's watch on her own wrist for safe-keeping.

"I wouldn't do that," said Chuck hastily.

"Oh, really?" said Sarah. "And why wouldn't you do that?"

"The device is uniquely tailored to someone with Chuck's condition. It may harm you if you put it on," said the machine.

Sarah glared daggers at Cameron. "We don't even know if he's telling the truth about that."

"He is," it said simply. "Blood pressure, perspiration, pupil dilation. He's nervous, but truthful about the watch. He's only lied to us once so far."

"What'd he lie about?" asked Sarah.

"He does know about the facility beneath the shopping complex. He said he didn't. He lied."

* * *

Chuck gulped not quite audibly. So, Other Sarah had an emotionless, super-strong, lie-detecting, uber-girl minion who could apparently take several bullets and not suffer any injury. Other Sarah might be a paranoid fanatic, but the girl rivaled even Jeff on the creepiness scale. At least he was obvious about his less-than-savory tendencies.

And now, came the part where they would interrogate him, holding the Governor hostage to ensure his compliance. Not to mention cutting off any access to the helpful skills the Intersect contained if he wanted to escape. And escaping was a rather high priority at the moment.

Still, Other Sarah was still talking with Creepy Girl, who Chuck now recalled being called Cameron. The driver was Derek, and the boy was John. _Keep this stuff in your head, Chuck,_ he told himself. It would probably save his life if he just kept his wits about him, and the thought reassured him a tiny bit.

Other Sarah looked around at the rest of her little group, as if hoping one of them had something to contribute. "So, where are we, exactly? Do we have anything connecting this facility to Skynet, Kaliba, anything?"

Chuck felt his head split open as his brain tried to flash not once, but twice in immediate succession, only to be met with a stabbing pain running all the way from one temple to another. He didn't scream, but he let out a harsh gasp of pain and fell to his side on the seat, instinctively curling up in as much of a fetal position as the limited space would allow.

It didn't go unnoticed. "What the hell was that?" demanded Other Sarah, pulling him back upright. "You know something! Spill it!" she shouted.

"The yelling," said Chuck quietly, still clutching his head, "is not helping." He still had to gasp for breath. "What I _know_ is that I just had a very unpleasant experience connected to my medical condition, the treatment for which you are withholding from me. I don't know what you want, but if you're looking to inflict pain on someone who had no idea who you were - or that you even existed - prior to today, then you're doing a _really_ good job."

The pain, it seemed, was not helping Chuck's spy game one bit. "So you didn't know who I was before today, but now you do? I don't recall telling you anything about myself," Other Sarah said dangerously.

Chuck gulped again, more audibly this time, and he was sweating nervously. While he was currently in excruciating physical agony, Chuck sensed that the true torture hadn't even close to started yet.

* * *

Many Thanks to KaelynnD for beta-reading this chapter!

As always, feedback, reviews, even suggestions for plot/character twists are all things I would love to listen to/read.

Enjoy!


	6. Chapter Six: A Very Frosty Flash

CHAPTER SIX: A Very Frosty Flash

* * *

John felt for the guy in the back seat. He was clearly in pain, and while an enemy agent could maintain a fake personality for a while, after a time, there was no reason to keep it up. Chuck seemed to be who he appeared to be. Maybe not _what_ he appeared to be, but that was why they still had him.

"Mom, just give him back his watch. He's not a help to us if he's in too much pain to talk."

John had to remind himself to tread carefully around Chuck. He had tried to plant that seed of discord back at the warehouse with that talk about his parents. True story? Probably not, but if it was, then it just confirmed that he was a person of interest.

After a few moments, Sarah handed Chuck back his watch. As he put it on, he breathed a very clear sigh of relief, and his face definitely relaxed. "Thanks, John. Sorry, may I call you John?"

Now John scowled slightly. Chuck seemed friendly enough, but the idea of a target talking like this to him put him on edge. Yes, his mom had mentioned his name audibly, but still, it felt too familiar. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Enough!" said Sarah. She sounded rather harsh to John's ears. "Now then, what happened just now? What caused that little spasm?"

Chuck sighed impatiently. "It isn't clear yet that I have a medical condition? I thought that was pretty well-established by now."

"What exactly is this 'condition'?" John asked. "Mental problems are a dime a dozen, but you said there were only three people with this particular disease and the treatment is pretty high tech. You had a _lot_ of feds try to rescue you. So please, save us all some trouble and quit the BS already."

Chuck seemed to be thinking carefully about how to respond. Probably was trying to figure out how to word a half-truth that could get around Cameron's ability to tell when he was lying.

"It's not a disease," Chuck said slowly. "And as for only three people having it… Let's say that it isn't a naturally-occurring phenomenon."

Derek snorted. "What, so you're a government lab rat?" Unsure

"No, I wouldn't say that. Is she?" Chuck asked, gesturing at Cameron.

Sarah snorted. "I wish. That would be far less complicated."

Chuck looked around hesitantly. "Less complicated than what, exactly?"

John exchanged looks with the others, an idea striking him. "If he believes us, he can help us."

"If I believe what?" asked Chuck.

John looked to Derek and Sarah once more before deciding. "Well, this is how it is…"

Chuck listened attentively as the Connors spelled it all out for him. The girl, Cameron, was not a girl at all, but a robot (correction: cybernetic organism) designed to mimic human behavior. A 'terminator,' they had called her. Not only that, but she had been sent from the future to help stop a nuclear holocaust where machines would rise up and slaughter the human race.

Now that Chuck thought about it, that had been precisely what Other Sarah had said in her sessions at Pescadero, but at the time of his flash, he'd dismissed it as the ravings of a mad woman. Maybe there was more to this.

"That, actually, isn't as hard to swallow as I think it probably should have been," said Chuck. "My life hasn't exactly been normal either, so who am I to dismiss what's right in front of me?"

"So, you'll help us?" asked the boy, John, hopefully.

"Well, I don't know about that. For one, you guys are wanted terrorists who are supposed to be dead. Personally, I prefer less violent solutions, if it can be helped. And I like to think I have well above average skills with a computer, so maybe… But, there is the fact that a number of people will be looking for me, not the least of which is my girlfriend who I was about to have a serious talk with earlier today before you kidnapped me."

Other Sarah looked at him with a penetrating stare. "You still haven't told us how you know who I am. You haven't even confirmed it yet, so you might be bluffing."

Chuck sighed. "All right, Miss Connor, I know who you are. I know that you were locked away in a mental institute for telling the truth and I know that you blew Cyberdyne sky high, most likely to prevent them from building evil machines down the road. I know that you blew up a bank from inside the vault, dropped off the grid for eight years, and then appeared with your son and that cyborg naked in the middle of a highway. And really, that's all I know about you." Would she be happy with that?

Other Sarah breathed what Chuck guessed was a sigh of relief. "In other words, you know the official story, and nothing more. That might or might not be a good thing." She paused. "You suffered some sort of fit earlier. Why? What brought that on?"

"Couldn't tell you," said Chuck casually. _More like _wouldn't_ tell you_, he thought to himself. "But, yeah, I'm assuming there's some Big Bad Evil AI controlling all the other Not-As-Big Evil AIs out there? And that's the one that launches the nukes?"

"That's right. Now then, Agent Nerd Herd, do you or don't you know anything about Skynet?"

"Skynet…" Chuck whispered as a small amount of information flashed through his mind:

* * *

**El Paso County Public Library Record:**

**THE FROST QUEEN**

**Checked Out: 06/14/29**

**Due In: 04/19/11**

* * *

"…Mom?"

"What? What does your mom have to do with anything?" Other Sarah demanded.

Chuck took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and looked up at Other Sarah. "The only thing I know about anything called 'Skynet' is that my mother is involved somehow, and we need to get to El Paso County by April 19th, 2011, or…."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!" called Derek from up front. "You mean El Paso County, Colorado? Home of Cheyenne Mountain? Home of NORAD? As in where Skynet is, was, and hopefully will not be born on April 19th, 2011? _That_ El Paso County?"

Chuck didn't speak for a moment. He was definitely in over his head here, but there was no going back now. "Yes. And my mother is going to be there on that day. I think. I'm not sure. She isn't nearly old enough to have been born in 1929." He looked around. "Anything of special note happen on or around June 14th, 1929?"

There was a combination of silence and shaking of heads.

"Well, then," said Chuck, "seeing as how I now have a very personal stake in this whole endeavor, not to mention that I believe you about the whole machines from the future thing, I would greatly appreciate it if I could go back and look into this with my resources and friends. And since I haven't been to your safe house yet, I can't give that information away. If you need to reach me, you can always just call the Nerd Herd desk at the Buy More. Oh, and I would guess that phone is tapped, but I'm sure you know how to say things without saying things, right?"

Other Sarah glared at him. It seemed to be her default setting. "And can you give us a good reason not to keep you around, where we can see you and keep an eye on you? Quite frankly, I'm not comfortable letting you out of my sights just yet."

"We should let him go," spoke a small voice from Chuck's immediate right. Cameron had said those words, which gave Chuck hope. Assuming she was a machine, her logic would be based on solely that and not on emotion or instinct or any, well, human factors.

Other Sarah shifted her ever-present glare from Chuck to Cameron. "And why, Tin Miss, should we do that?"

"Chuck is employed by the United States government, possibly one of its covert or military branches. The level of manpower they sent after us to reclaim him indicates he is a high priority asset. They won't stop looking for him." She paused, almost as if for dramatic effect, Chuck thought, and she leaned forward a bit. "They won't stop looking for _us_."

Other Sarah scowled and held that expression for a while. "Pull over."

The van pulled into the parking lot of a rather downtrodden looking diner off the side of the road. Cameron moved to the side to let Chuck pass her and exit the vehicle.

Chuck stepped out, but turned back to face them all once more. "I just want to say 'thank you' for not killing me, and for listening, and for maybe – I hope – believing me. And I want to say that I meant it when I said I believe you, and that I do have a personal stake in this, and that, well, that I'm on your side in all this."

That wiped the scowl and the glare from Other Sarah's face, and John and Derek were looking at him with, if not approval, at least tolerance. "Get lost," Other Sarah said, but in a soft, non-threatening way.

"Will do," said Chuck. "Good luck." With a small wave, he turned around and headed into the diner, where he hoped the people behind the counter would let him use their phone. Beckman wouldn't like this.

And Sarah! They had been about to have a very important 'where do we go from here' discussion which had been totally sideswiped. Thinking about Sarah, about General Beckman, about Other Sarah, it made Chuck think. "How is it that we are not a matriarchal society?"

* * *

Once again, KaelynnD was my guiding light for proof-reading this chapter, so a big 'Thank You' goes out to you, KaelynnD!

Whatever your thoughts, send them my way, please.

Next chapter will most likely be a reflection on the romances throughout the two shows. Maybe even with some cross-series fires flaring. Who can say for sure? ~_^


	7. Chapter Seven: Race Against the Heart

CHAPTER SEVEN: Race Against the Heart

* * *

As the sandy landscape rushed by, and the city on the horizon grew larger upon approach, Chuck was rather happy that the CIA and the NSA were keeping his recovery as low-key as possible. Only Casey and Sarah had been sent to get him. Chuck very much believed that some of the other traffic on the highway consisted of plainclothes agents that were also guarding him, but for the time being, Chuck sat in the back seat with Sarah, while Casey sounded off sarcastically from the driver's seat.

"So, kids, what have we learned today?" asked Casey in his usual snide manner when Chuck did something not entirely in line with Spy Protocol 101.

"Please don't tell me that the moral of the story is 'stay in the store' or something along similar lines. I like to think we've moved beyond that by now," said Chuck, not feeling in the mood to be told off by the gruff NSA Colonel right now.

"But Chuck," said Sarah more gently, taking his hand, "you could have just called me on my cell, or on the land line. There was no need for you to risk yourself in the open like that. Look what happened." She hadn't raised her voice one bit, and Sarah almost seemed to be biting back how relieved she might be feeling, but Chuck still got the message: he'd screwed up.

"In all fairness, we were going to have a rather important conversation about our relationship," said Chuck, but a grunt from Casey and a frown from Sarah made him stop in his tracks. "But, a relationship needs to have two living partners to exist, so yeah. I get it, I really do." A thought occurred to him. "Does Beckman know that you're telling me this, or am I going to get grilled again when we get back?"

"Well, you know the Manager," said Casey, clearly enjoying himself. "Save for fifteen minutes for lunch, there aren't any breaks at the Buy More anymore. You went off the clock for almost an entire workday. How's that gonna look on your resume, Bartowski?"

Chuck gave a humorless laugh, seeing as General Beckman had made very sure that no other employer would possibly lay their hands on her precious Intersect. He hadn't mentioned that particular bit of blackmail to Ellie, who would probably have thrown a fit.

"So, why do you think the Connors just let you go?" asked Sarah, visibly glad at the end result.

"I'm guessing it was a combination of me believing their story, as crazy as it is, and the fact that they had been flying below the radar for a while, and keeping me would elevate them to priority targets."

"The United States does not negotiate with terrorists, Bartowski," growled Casey. "What did you promise them?"

"Promise? Nothing! I mean, I said I'd listen to them, and that I'd try to convince you guys that they aren't crazy. And then there's something else," said Chuck, hesitating a bit before bringing up his flash. "Do you remember what I asked your help with a few months back? That file we found?"

"You mean about looking for your mother?" said Sarah. She and Casey had agreed to help him look for Mary Elizabeth Bartowski, and more importantly to Chuck, had agreed not to tell Beckman or their other superiors. They'd come a long way as a team.

"Yes. I flashed on something the Connors said. They mentioned a really big, nasty, evil AI that nukes the world called 'Skynet,' and the Intersect has something about it." Chuck paused and took a breath. "Something about my mom," he said.

"What?" exclaimed both Sarah and Casey simultaneously. "That seems strange," said Sarah. "Unless today's encounter was orchestrated by-" she said before trailing off, obviously disconcerted with the thought of a madwoman's delusional demons scheming around them.

"I'm starting to think we need to bring Beckman in on this," said Casey.

"No, no, please don't do that, Casey," said Chuck. "You know the moment Beckman thinks I have a lead on my mom, she'll take it away to make sure that the only missions I go on are the ones she gives me."

"That's the way it works, Bartowski. You do unauthorized missions, and you face the music," said Casey, sounding a big grimmer than usual.

Sarah took that moment to break into the conversation. "Casey, you know that neither Chuck nor I blame you for what happened with Kathleen. I would do the same thing for Chuck without thinking," she said resolutely before turning a bit red in the face.

Chuck looked at Sarah fondly, grinning as he took her hand. "I hope you don't think any less of Agent Walker's capabilities because she cares about her asset," said Chuck only semi-jokingly. He caught Sarah's eye, and shared a smile with her. "I think that talk can wait until tomorrow, Sarah."

"I think so, too, Chuck," said Sarah warmly, as she leaned in to kiss him on the lips, which he responded to happily.

* * *

Sarah leaned back from the kiss and smiled, just glad that Chuck was all right. What he could have seen in his flash to make him believe a madwoman like Connor, though, was beyond her ability to imagine right now. What it must be like to have all that information, all those secrets… Sarah had her fair share of secrets as well, but they were more personal than the kind people killed for.

But Chuck managed to not only handle all of his secrets – not to mention his share of personal secrets – admirably, but he still hadn't lost that nice-guy charm that had drawn her to him in the first place. Even before she'd known he had the Intersect in his head, when she was still getting close to him before their first 'fake' date, Sarah hadn't been able to fully believe that Chuck was cut from the same cloth as herself and Casey. He was just too nice.

There weren't enough nice guys in Sarah's life, in the CIA agent's opinion. But Chuck's life was full of them, which made them part of her own life, in a way. Carina kept harping on how boring life in Burbank must be, but if Sarah had her pick of undercover mission locales, from the exotic islands of the Pacific to the coastal cities of the Mediterranean, if it didn't have Chuck by her side, then Burbank would always seem like paradise.

Still, Sarah was happy. She was happier than she had been since she could remember. And Chuck wanted to talk about the next step. Sarah loved Chuck. Chuck was the best thing that had happened to her. But still, she was happy now. Why couldn't he be happy with things the way they were? Or maybe he was, and he was just thinking of contingencies.

No, that was too spy-like for Chuck. It was probably just that he'd been much, much quicker to recognize his own feelings than Sarah had at recognizing hers. Spies don't fall in love, she had always been told. It was the Cardinal Rule of Spies. Still, this spy had definitely fallen in love, and it was pointless to deny it.

So, what does a spy do when she falls in love? Where does she go from here?

_I guess I'll talk to Chuck about that,_ thought Sarah with more than a touch of irony.

* * *

There was a long silence in the van after Chuck had gotten out. They'd never even gotten his last name, now that John thought about it. "So, what now?" he asked. "Do we believe him? Or did we just let him out so that we don't get hounded by Feds?"

Sarah seemed to be looking at each of them in turn before answering. _Is it possible_, thought John, _that the great Sarah Connor is actually unsure of herself for once?_

"He didn't seem like a hardened agent. He seemed more like," Sarah said before a significant pause. Did her eyes widen a bit? "He seemed like Andy Goode," said Sarah finally. "A nice guy, smart, caught up in something bigger."

"You think he's gonna have something to do with Skynet?" asked Derek. "The way he talked about his mom being involved made me think that he might do something stupid if he thought he could get to her." He went silent for a moment. "We all have those moments," he said, and John knew he was talking about his time fighting Skynet in the future. "You think you have a chance to reclaim something or someone that you lost, maybe just a keepsake of some kind, and you lose perspective. Happens to the best," he said.

"So, you believe him about his mom, then?" asked John. That still bugged him; that Chuck had tried to use his parental issues to drive a wedge between him and his mom. It reminded him of Jesse and Riley, and how they'd tried to manipulate his emotions regarding Cameron. He wasn't nearly as bothered by Chuck's maneuver as he had been by Jesse's, though.

"Yeah, I think I do believe him," said Derek, snapping John out of that particular train of thought. "He has that wide-eyed look that you just don't find in people who have seen the worst of it."

"Yeah, I guess," said John. He turned to the back seat. "What do you think, Cameron? Do you think we can trust this guy?"

Cameron seemed to pause for a moment before she responded, as if she was weighing the variables involved in calculating a threat assessment. "He knew how to answer without giving away all the details. He was under duress, but he showed less strain than other individuals we have captured."

"Does 'we' mean us, or Skynet?" asked Sarah bitterly.

"Both," said Cameron simply. "But his behavior indicates this wasn't the first time he's been held captive and interrogated."

"So, that means he's in a position with a lot of risk," said John, "But what about what he did tell us? Can we trust that?"

"I think so. Humans give certain telltale signs when they are thinking of someone they care about. Chuck was obviously thinking about someone close to him when he was talking about his mother, and I couldn't detect any lies after our flight from the warehouse."

John nodded, feeling a bit uneasy about those telltale indicators Cameron had mentioned. The way he was feeling right now, Cameron could probably tell he was thinking about someone he cared for. But would she intuit who he was thinking about? Did the possibility even enter into her mind that he _could_ care for her like that?

"Chuck also displayed similar emotional indicators shortly after we captured him in the parking lot," Cameron said. "He kept muttering 'Sarah' under his breath."

* * *

Sarah glared back at the machine. "Just what are you implying, exactly?" she snarled. Had this Chuck been lying about not having known about her before? Had he been spying on her during their week of reconnaissance before the Buy More hand reopened?

Still, that little fact had cut a bit too close to home. Sarah had been thinking about Chuck in terms that were not proper for a possible enemy. It was almost like being in a happy memory. _That's odd,_ thought Sarah. _When was I ever really happy?_

"He was saying the name 'Sarah' repeatedly while giving signs that he was thinking about someone he cared about," said the machine, without emotion. Was it trying to taunt her?

_I came back in time for you, Sarah._ There was that memory. Her protector, mentor, lover, and guardian angel: Kyle Reese. But why was she being reminded of that now? Chuck wasn't a soldier. Why was she thinking of him as if he was one?

"He did mention a girlfriend at a frozen yogurt shop," offered Derek. He almost seemed like a white knight, coming to Sarah's aid when she needed him most. "'Sarah' isn't a rare name, exactly."

"Still, it makes me uneasy," admitted Sarah, rubbing her arms together, suddenly feeling goose bumps on her flesh. She tried to imagine Kyle's tender hands on her skin. But when she thought about Kyle's gentleness, it wasn't his face in her mind's eye.

"Why?" asked Cameron. "Do you have an emotional connection to Chuck?"

"What!" Sarah wheeled on Cameron after her louder-than-intended protest. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?" That did sound way too defensive, she realized too late.

"Was she displaying those telltale emotional signs you mentioned, Cam?" asked John, a hint of mischief in his voice. Sarah turned her baleful stare on her son. Not only was he teaming up with the machine against her, but he was using an affectionate nickname for the thing! It all made Sarah want to throw up.

"Sarah, stop panicking, okay?" said Derek. "I get it. I see it, too." He looked over his shoulder at a red light. "John, leave her be, okay? When Chuck got out of the car, and he thanked us for believing him and everything," said Derek, "I was sure I was seeing my brother risen from the grave."

Sarah turned forward again and slumped back in her seat a bit. "It wasn't just me, then," she said to herself, feeling horribly ashamed.

"No, it wasn't. Kyle used to tease me about flunking recess in school, while he was always ready with a smile and a joke, and he knew when to lose the humor and speak his mind, all peacefully. Even so, he could take down metal with the best of them." Sarah caught a smile in the rear-view mirror. "Everyone liked Kyle," said Derek.

Sarah looked from John to Derek and back again, not able to stand the thought of seeing what must have been a mocking grin on the machine's face. "You must think I'm terrible, to even think for a moment about someone else…"

"No, mom, I don't," said John. Sarah loved her son so much right then and there. "Love's what makes us human," he said.

"But what would Kyle say if he knew I even had the slightest thought about someone else?" Sarah knew she was revealing too much of her inner thoughts right now, probably becoming too vulnerable. But she needed to know that she wasn't in the wrong. And she didn't feel she could look to the always-present bit of Kyle Reese that seemed to look after her in her mind. She felt dirty.

"Kyle would be the first to tell you to find your own happiness," said Derek. "He had a couple of girlfriends in the resistance, but never for very long." He didn't have to say 'because they were killed,' but it still hung in the air. "But even the ones he could protect from the machines, he would blame himself if they were unhappy with him. Everyone liked Kyle, but love isn't all that common out there. You take what you can get, and Kyle would join in the partying whenever someone found happiness."

Derek looked back at Sarah through the mirror. "Don't let a memory hold you back, Sarah. Just keep in mind that if Chuck is caught up in Skynet, then romance shouldn't be the first thing on your mind."

Sarah nodded. "Right. I got it." And she did, too. Sarah even felt like Kyle might forgive her if she thought about remote possibilities with someone else once this was all over, if they managed to stop Judgment Day.

But Sarah wasn't sure she could forgive herself just yet. But despite all of this, she couldn't help but feel drawn to Chuck. And that, she realized, made him just as dangerous as any machine.

* * *

Thanks again to KaelynnD for beta-reading this chapter!

Thanks to everyone who reads and enjoys, and Thanks to anyone who leaves feedback.

And Many hanks to the owners and creators of Terminator and Chuck, who are not me.


	8. Chapter Eight: A Man Taking Names

CHAPTER EIGHT: A Man Taking Names

* * *

Robby Stern thought he was a reasonable fellow who was good at his job. His job involved some messy business, but the pay was beyond anything he should have a right to expect, so he took what was offered and didn't ask questions. Reasonable enough, he thought. So tonight, Robby Stern figured he would cross another item off his list. This one was a doctor, specializing in neurology at USC, or so his info told him. Nothing to be worried about, he thought.

So when he drove his car into the Echo Park neighborhood, he had no idea that hidden sensors were detecting the weapons in his vehicle and were sending an alert out to a nearby government facility. He had no reason at all to suspect that he was now being tracked. And when he parked his car, turned off the engine, and moved to enter the apartment complex, he was completely unprepared for having a hood brought over his head and being dragged by very strong people to somewhere that he was sure he would not like one bit.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

Chuck was feeling groggy. His phone had rung far earlier than expected, and was told to report to Castle immediately, along with Sarah. Chuck was usually a morning person, but 4:45 AM was a bit much.

Sarah's sleep patterns, he had noticed, were a mystery. Given a mission, she could be up and alert in no time. Given some time to relax, on the other hand, she tended to throw knives at her alarm clocks. _Still_, Chuck thought, _her aim is good even when she's sleepy_.

At the moment, however, Sarah was quite alert, though she seemed to have no more idea than he did why they were being summoned. Casey was already waiting for them at the conference table, as was General Beckman, dressed in a more formal business suit than what she usually wore to the Buy More. Military stripes would attract unwanted attention, Chuck realized, otherwise she would have come dressed as such.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Beckman said in a polite, almost warm voice.

"General, what's wrong?" asked Chuck.

"Why do you assume something is wrong, Agent Bartowski?" asked the General a bit more coolly.

"Well, not to be rude, but you did wake us up in the dead of night. And now you're trying to reassure us. That means that there is a reason we need to be reassured."

"Bartowski," came the warning growl from Casey.

"It's all right, Colonel Casey." Beckman took off her glasses and folded them in front of her. She wanted to look Chuck in the eye. This was so not good.

"Earlier this evening, we intercepted an assassin en route to your apartment complex. He readily surrendered a short list of targets. And while my instinct is that he is an amateur mercenary at best, the truth is that most of the targets on his list are already dead."

Sarah looked from the General to Chuck and back again. "So, someone sent an assassin after Chuck?"

"I'm afraid not, Agent Walker." Beckman took a step forward towards Chuck.

"General," he said uneasily. "I'm a big boy. I can take whatever it is you have to tell me."

Beckman sighed. "Very well, Chuck. The target was your sister, Eleanor Fay Bartowski."

"What!" Chuck threw up his hands and put them to his head. "Oh, my God! Ellie! What did she do? She's a doctor. She saves lives! She isn't a spy!"

"That's the other thing. None of the people on this list are persons of interest. All civilians, scattered from here to the Mississippi River. Eight names in total, six of which already dead."

Beckman tapped a button on the desk, and the screens in front of them lit up with eight faces. Chuck looked at them all, seeing nothing but innocent people looking back at him. Six were shaded in red, and in the lower right hand corner were two normally-shaded portraits; Ellie and a red-haired girl who couldn't even be ten years old!

"Did you flash on any of them, Chuck?" asked Beckman.

"No," said Chuck quietly. "Nothing. These people didn't do anything. There's no reason to hurt them."

"Maybe not," said Casey, "but someone goes to the trouble of hiring this guy to kill these people, there has to be some common denominator. We're running everything we have on all eight of them to look for anything linking them."

"Colonel Casey has already finished an initial interrogation of the assassin. I'd like you to listen and watch, Chuck, and see if you flash on anything."

Chuck was feeling numb. Ellie had become a target. What could she possibly have done? _She's related to you_, said a voice in Chuck's head. _No_, said another, stronger mental voice_. None of these others are in any way connected to me_.

"Sure, General. Play the tape," he said, only vaguely aware of doing so.

The screens switched on, and Chuck got a good view of both Casey and the assassin from different angles on different screens. The assassin was clearly nervous. Chuck would be too, given the heavy shackles on his wrists and ankles.

Casey sat down across from the man. "Why don't we start with something simple: your name," said Casey.

"Stern, Robby Stern," the man said quickly and nervously.

"Thank you, Robby. May I call you Robby?" Casey didn't wait for a reply. "We found a list in your car, Robby. People you killed, and who we think you were going to kill."

"Oh, my God! You're a Fed, aint'cha? You're gonna ship me off to Gitmo, and I'm never gonna be heard from again, am I?"

"Maybe," said Casey in a cool, threatening voice. He leaned forward. "Or, you can tell us everything you know, and we might go easy on you."

"S-sure. Ask away!" Stern said, apparently eager to get off the hook.

"Thank you, Robby. Who hired you to kill these people?"

"I don't know. No, really, I don't! He never told me his name, I swear! But he was one of the higher ups at the company I work for. I'm a security contractor, and he came to me and said I should take care of these folk, and if I do, I get a big heap of cash when I come home."

"Calm down, Robby. What company do you work for?"

"W-Western Iron & Metal. But, I don't think that's really it."

Chuck felt his eyes roll back into his head.

* * *

**Western Iron & Metal Trading Company**

**Tool manufacturing industrial business**

**Known business partner of Desert Canyon Heat and Air**

**Suspected involvement in explosion of Desert Canyon Heat and Air facility; July 2008**

**Suspected front organization for Kaliba Group**

* * *

Chuck sat up again and thought about that flash. It made little sense to him, but it seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Back on the screen, Casey leaned forward, a curious look on his face. "What do you mean, Robby?"

"Well, it's just that they pay us real good to do our jobs and keep quiet about anything strange going on. I never saw anything out of the ordinary, save some big guys who don't talk much. Scare me, they do. It was one of them that gave me this job. And we ship some stuff that you don't expect to come out of a metal company."

"Stuff like what?" asked Casey silkily.

"I dunno. Just stuff shaped weird and such. Like it belongs in a machine, but one that I ain't ever seen before. That's all, I swear. I'm no techie, and they don't like us asking questions, anyway. They pay way too good for me to ask anything."

"I see," said Casey. "And I take it that you didn't ask about the people on this list?" His voice was calm and level.

Stern tried to shy away as best he could. "It was two-fifty grand per head! Would you ask anything if they paid you that much not to?"

"I don't know," said Casey, "But we were talking about you. So, you didn't ask about these people. Did you observe anything about them that made you wonder why someone would want them dead?"

Then, Stern broke down in tears. "Lord, have mercy! I don't know! They were just people! Doctors, teachers, there's a kid on that list! And I killed them, and I was gonna kill 'em! Oh, God, forgive me!" Stern had now broken down into helpless sobbing, and it was clear to Chuck that he didn't have anything else to say.

But Casey wasn't quite done yet. "What do you think will happen when you don't check back in with the job done, Robby?" asked Casey, this time with genuine concern, or so Chuck thought.

Stern sniffed. "I don't know. I got no family for them to threaten or anything, but they'll probably look for me and kill me. Probably get someone else to finish the job. But I'm done! I shoulda quit long ago, but I was too scared. Kill me, lock me up, I don't care. I just don't wanna do this anymore." And then he resumed sobbing a bit more quietly to himself.

The tape clicked off then, and Beckman came around to face Chuck. "Did you flash on anything, Bartowski?"

Chuck was still trying to take it all in. State secrets, weapons, VIPs: these were what people in the spy business killed for. What was this all about?

"Yeah, General: Western Iron & Metal is possibly linked to an explosion at some place called Desert Canyon Heat and Air, and it might be a front for something called the Kaliba Group."

"Kaliba," said Sarah, "I thought I read a report on them a while back. That they were some sort of splinter group linked to the Ring, like Fulcrum."

"As best we know, that is correct, Agent Walker," said Beckman. "Kaliba is an international criminal syndicate that has its hands in many legitimate businesses all across the world. Our intelligence on them is out of date, as they had been given a lower priority with the collapse of the Ring." The General gave a courteous inclination of her head in Chuck's direction. "But with Kaliba apparently operating so close to Castle, they may become a higher priority. I'll have to alert Washington about this."

"What about the next time?" Chuck asked. "Stern said they might send someone else to finish this list."

"I assure you, Chuck, your apartment facility has protection rivaling Castle, only far more discreet. It's how we were able to intercept Stern before he could do any damage."

"Then what about the last target on the list? This little girl: Savannah Weaver? How do we tell her parents that someone is trying to kill her for no apparent reason?"

"We don't," said Beckman tersely. "But until further notice, that will be your assignment. Observe and protect Miss Weaver covertly, and make note of any suspicious activity in her vicinity.

"Now, if there are no other questions, I suggest you go back home and get some rest, all of you," said Beckman. "You'll need it to protect Savannah Weaver's life."

* * *

I own nothing.

Reviews and feedback are more than welcome!

Many Thanks to KaelynnD for beta-reading this chapter.

Enjoy!


	9. Chapter Nine: House Call

CHAPTER NINE: House Call

* * *

Something was not quite right. Ellie did not know exactly what it was that was not quite right, but she did know that _something_ was off. It had been a few days since Chuck had come and inquired after her health in his endearing failed attempts at subtlety. Still, since the revelation of Chuck being a very active spy, Ellie was now looking at the world as if she'd just gotten a new set of eyes. It was one thing to act as if everything was the same as it had been before. And when Ellie told herself that it really _was_ the same – she just hadn't known better before – it only served to make things feel worse.

Still, for the time being, there was work to be done. There were patients to see, and Eleanor Fay Bartowski Woodcomb was not about to let her personal insanity get in the way of her job. Ellie picked up her next patient's chart and looked it over briefly before stepping into the room. A dark-haired woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties sat on the bed, clad in a patient's gown.

"Ms. Baum? I'm Dr. Woodcomb," she said warmly, extending her hand. Ellie had decided that while using both Devon's and her own last name was fine for some things, it was easier for patients to not have to drag out so many syllables.

The woman took her hand in a surprisingly strong grip. "Good to meet you," she said briefly, almost curtly. She didn't look entirely comfortable, to Ellie's somewhat-trained eye.

"So, you came in with some headaches, I see. Can you describe them for me? Where they are, how intense the pain is, what kind of pain it feels like?"

Ms. Baum – Ellie saw on her chart that her first name was Sarah – gave a curt nod. "It's a sort of general ache right in the front of my forehead. But it's not on the surface. It feels like it's deeper, if that makes any sense."

Ellie gave an understanding nod. "Well, Ms. Baum, can you tell me a bit about your job and your home life? I'm not asking for personal details, but flashy sights and loud noises, if any, are one major cause of headaches. Also, do you have any family history of-"

"Could it be cancer?" asked Sarah Baum abruptly.

Ellie had to keep herself from wincing, and the effect was that her eyes widened a bit. A brief look at Sarah's chart had shown multiple visits in the past three years, each to a different hospital, seeking out a possible cancer diagnosis. "Brain cancer can cause headaches, yes," Ellie reluctantly admitted, "but it's far more likely that there are some environmental factors at work."

Sarah Baum did not look happy. She positively scowled. "Environmental factors? Heh. I suppose you could call my environment a noisy and stressful one."

Ellie nodded again. "Could you give me some details? Is this a work-related environment we're talking about?"

Before her patient could answer, the door swung open and two janitors walked in. Ellie turned to face them. "Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm with a patient right now. We should be done here in a bit, I hope."

The janitors did not simply leave, however. One of them closed the door behind him while the other took a step closer and pulled a gun out of his coat! "Dr. Woodcomb, I presume? Dr. Eleanor Fay Bartowski-Woodcomb?"

Ellie took a step backward, hands instinctively going into the air. "What do you want?" she demanded, though her voice was shaking with nervousness.

The other man showed a piece of paper to the man holding a gun. It had her picture on it! "Yup. Glad we got that straight." The first man pulled out a silencer and began applying it to his gun.

Before Ellie could get it through her head that there were people here trying to kill her, there was a white blur that was grunting as it collided into the two brown-clad men, dropping them to the ground.

Sarah Baum picked up the gun and finished putting the silencer on it. "Oh, my God!" said Ellie. "Who are these men? Who are _you?_" she almost screamed at her patient.

"I'm someone who doesn't like innocent doctors being shot. Now be quiet." Ellie had no idea why a woman paranoid about cancer was suddenly taking down armed men dressed as janitors, but she clearly recognized the signs of someone from that other, new-found side of her life that she had been trying very hard not to think about lately.

Sarah Baum searched the two men, stripping them down naked to reveal that they were armed far more heavily than the casual eye would have had any right to expect. Baggy pants could hide a lot, it seemed. The woman in the patient's gown checked the pockets of their clothes, and found some folded-up papers.

One of these papers was suddenly thrust into her face. "Who are these people? Why does Kaliba want you all dead?"

"K-Kaliba? I have no idea who that is," Ellie said quite honestly. Hands trembling, she took the piece of paper that had eight square portraits, and six of them were crossed off. "I've never seen any of these people before in my life." Ellie looked up and saw Sarah Baum staring at her. No, she was sizing Ellie up: examining her. "Who is Kaliba?" asked Ellie.

"Not who. What. The Kaliba Group is some sort of organization that has a decided interest in making sure that threats to them aren't threats for long." There was distinct accusation in her voice.

"I'm telling you, I'm just a doctor. I'm studying neurology at USC, but other than that, I'm just a doctor."

Sarah Baum then did something Ellie wouldn't have expected, even given her patient's newfound ferocity: she trained the not-janitor's gun on her. "You're not telling me something, Dr. Woodcomb. Who's Robert Stern, and how did you stop him from killing you six days ago?"

"What? Nobody tried to kill me six days ago! Nothing has happened in-" Ellie trailed off, realization suddenly hitting her in the stomach like a stone fist. "-in the last six days," she finished quietly. "Chuck knew," she whispered to herself.

The brown-haired woman grabbed Ellie by her scrubs and brought her close. "You say 'Chuck?' Does this guy by any chance happen to work at a local Buy More?"

Ellie's eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded rapidly. "Yes, he does. Oh, God!"

"Quiet!" hissed Baum. Of course, Ellie now doubted whether that was her patient's real name. _Is anyone who they say they are? Sarah, John Casey, anyone?_ "Listen to me, Dr. Woodcomb. You are in danger. The people who just tried to kill you are the second attempt on your life. There will be a third. I want to protect you, but I need you to trust me. You aren't safe at home. I don't care if it has government protection. Against what they will send at you, no one is ever safe. Do you get that?"

Ellie was almost too stunned to speak. "No, I don't. But I suppose you're about to tell me that you can keep me safe. Am I right?"

Baum seemed to get that she had to sell herself now, so she lowered the gun. "No guarantees. But I know what the enemy is, and one of them is on our side. If I told you anything more, I wouldn't trust a head doctor to call me sane."

"Well, Ms. Baum, this particular head doctor has seen some things that all conventional wisdom would deem science fiction, so I won't dismiss anything too easily." Really, after realizing that Chuck had a supercomputer in his brain that gave him intelligence and skills of all kinds, she had no right to deny the possibility of anything. Preconceptions no longer applied.

Sarah chuckled a tiny bit and nodded. "You sound like Chuck. You two related?"

"Yes. He's my younger brother."

"Well, he's better protected than most, and he's not on this list," Baum said as she began to redress herself. "You, on the other hand, Dr. Woodcomb, are a great deal more vulnerable." She finished pulling her shirt on. "I'll be blunt, doctor: you're going to have to come with me if you want to live," said Sarah Baum as she extended her hand. It wasn't for a handshake; it was the hand of a potential savior reaching out to rescue Ellie.

Ellie was silent for almost two minutes, during which Sarah Baum's hand never wavered. The woman had saved her life. Unless it was all a ploy, like that man Justin had lured her into. But no: that was all about subtlety and cunning. Sarah Baum was a blunt instrument, and she had a fire about her that told Ellie that this woman had convictions that she would die for. It was what those convictions were that worried Ellie.

She found herself nodding and taking Baum's hand. "Okay, then." Part of Ellie was screaming not to go along with this madness, but another voice in her head was quietly assuring her that this was the best way to go about it. _After all,_ the voice said, _Chuck never trusted you enough with his secrets, and now your father is dead. This woman isn't holding anything back._ Ellie was disgusted at the part of herself that was mad at Chuck, but she couldn't deny that she had felt betrayed when she had found herself the absolute last person in Chuck's life to find out about his spy life.

So, not quite knowing why she was doing what she was doing, Ellie soon disembarked the hospital elevator, pushing a wheelchair with Sarah Baum in it through the lobby.

"Yo, Ellie!" called a woman at the front desk. "You're packed to leave? I thought you didn't get off for another four hours?"

Ellie shrugged. "It's a house call, Maggie," she said, not believing the lies she was telling, and probably would be telling, for unknown reasons. "Don't worry," Ellie called from the front door. "I'll be back."

* * *

Many Thanks to KaelynnD, who beta-read this chapter. Without her guiding hand, this chapter would have had far too many colons (the grammar kind).

I only own this story and the original characters within: Terminator, Chuck, and their respective characters are the property of their owners.

Thanks in advance for any reviews and comments!

(P.S. I think we have gone too long without a visit to the Buy More. Perhaps the next chapter will be an interlude of sorts.)


	10. The Buy More Chronicles: Episode I

THE BUY MORE CHRONICLES: EPISODE I

* * *

Morgan Grimes was walking the surface of an alien world. He had to be, there was no other explanation. The glitz, the glamour, the polished shine were all here where they had no right to be. Something had to be done, and Morgan Guillermo Grimes was obviously the last hope for the defense of, if not the human race, then at the very least the Burbank Buy More.

"Uh, excuse me. General? Diane? May I call you Diane?" he said as he approached the very 'General' Manager of the Buy More. A quick glare told him to stay away from her first name. "Sorry. General, I have been noticing a few things about your management of the store, and I have to say I am concerned for the security of the place. I think you could have done a bit of a better job with setting things up."

Brigadier General Diane Beckman looked Morgan straight in the eye with a contemptuous gaze. In a world surrounded by people far taller than him, it was amazing how the equally-short General could still intimidate him so easily. "Grimes, I don't have time for this. I let you stay here with some measure of trust, and you should be grateful that you haven't been shipped off to a witness protection facility."

Morgan's mouth hung open for a second, unsure what to make of that knowledge. He then promptly closed it, not letting himself be distracted from the business at hand. "Be that as it may, General, I implore you to look around at this environment you have created. Tell me what you see?"

Beckman sighed, clearly disappointed at Morgan's refusal to be subverted. "I see a smoothly-running store full of satisfied customers. Is there something wrong with that picture, Grimes?" she asked contemptuously.

"There are a number of things wrong with this picture, General, and you only scratched the surface. The previous regime here at the Buy More may have been flawed, true, but even so, absolutely no retail store anywhere in this country is as perfect as this! Let me show you what I mean.

"Here, we have the Nerd Herd desk. Do you see how long that line is?"

"And it is moving along smoothly and quickly. Get to the point, Grimes."

"All right, I shall. The point is that the people in that line are young. High school age, college age, mostly, and the line is moving so quickly because their technical problems are so minor that they are just an excuse to come in here. Look around at your staff, General. Do you see a disproportionate inequality of freakishly beautiful people to freakishly average or simply un-beautiful people?"

"Grimes, a CIA or NSA agent has to be able to subvert enemies in the field. An attractive face and physique are often crucial to success."

"Ah, yes. I think I see the problem. That may be all well and good for Uncle Sam, but here at the Buy More, it's just unnatural. Nature itself is being subverted by your Secret Cabal of Beauty. People aren't coming to the Buy More to shop, anymore. They are coming to pick up the man or woman of their dreams. And then they stick around the store longer, just looking for an excuse to stay around. They look at products and displays they might otherwise ignore, just if it means they can stay here a little longer.

"Do you see where that man over there currently has his attention? It's on a display of HP laptops, I know. But hidden within that display are things that would be dangerous if the public were to accidentally stumble onto. And with the handsome employees, the spick and shine of the windows and the floors…" Morgan sighed for effect. "This doesn't feel like the Buy More, General. It feels like a big secret just waiting to be exposed. Which, I might point out, it pretty much is."

Beckman was stunned into silence, though her eyes were not wide with shock, but narrowed in thought. _I must have scored a point or two,_ thought Morgan. _Grimes: 1. Beckman: 0, thank you very much._

"As much as it pains me to say this, Grimes, you have a point. And it pains me even further to say this, but I'm giving you your first solo mission."

"Thank you, General. I'm glad you see my… Sorry, beg your pardon?"

"Your mission, Grimes, is to implement new protocols to ensure the successful cover of our operations here. Appropriate whatever personnel or resources you need, and report back to me as soon as possible. Is that clear?"

"Uh, yeah. Perfectly clear, General, ma'am. I'll get right on that." Morgan straightened his shirt. This called for a trip to the Subway.

* * *

After scouring the Red Line for what felt like hours, Morgan finally found what he had been looking for. Rather, he heard what he was listening for.

"_On the day I was born, the nurses all gathered 'round._

_And they gazed in wide wonder, at the joy they had found."_

There they stood. One with an electronic keyboard in hand, the other holding a microphone, an open case at their feet, filled with a few nickels and pennies. There might have even been a dime or two.

"_The head nurse spoke up, and she said 'Leave this one alone.'"_

Morgan took a careful few steps forward –

"_She could tell right away…"_

– towards the collective entity known only as Jeffster.

"…_that I was bad to the bone!"_

So with a heavy heart, Morgan cleared his throat. "Hey, guys! How's it been?"

"_Bad to the bone!"_

"Uh, Lester? Jeff?"

"_Bad to the bone!"_

"Mind if I just get a quick word with you for a moment?"

"_B-B-B-B-Bad to the bone!"_

"Okay, I think you've had enough for today," Morgan said as he snatched the mic away from Lester.

Jeff stopped playing his keyboard and looked up at Lester, as if for guidance. "What do we do now? Do we run for it?"

"No, Jeffrey! I am tired of running! We stick to the plan! We just keep singing, and they'll ignore us, go away, and hopefully leave us their spare change!" Lester shouted frantically.

"Whoa, whoa! Guys, what are you running from?" Morgan asked, suddenly worried that the two of them might be caught up in something bigger.

"The cops, man!" said Jeff crazily. "They've just been looking for an excuse to come batting down our doors. And we finally gave it to them."

"I thought we agreed, Jefferson, that the Buy More spontaneously combusting was somehow not our fault!"

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. "You're right, Lester. There's…"

"NOT! OUR! FAULT!" Lester cried hysterically, his bedraggled hair flopping about as he drew the stares of nervous-looking train-goers.

"Yes, Lester! Yes, Jeff! We know. You didn't blow up the Buy More! Nobody's been after you for… Have you guys really been running like this for eight months?"

"Nah, man. We crash at Lester's mom's place every other…"

"Yes, Morgan! We have been on the run for I don't remember how long! Hounded by the insidious agents of the Man, determined to take us down!"

"I don't want to take you down, guys. I want to take you home," said Morgan.

Lester gazed uncertainly at Morgan. "We're listening. But at the first sign of trickery, Grimes…"

"Look. The Buy More wants you back. _Needs_ you back. We're open again, good to go, and we're just looking to flesh out the staff a bit."

"You mean…?" said Jeff.

"Yes, Jeff. Yes, Lester. You _can_ go home again," said Morgan. "And as a sign of our gratitude for your accepting your old jobs back and keep in mind this is _if_ you accept," Morgan said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out, "a twenty dollar gift card, good at any Subway restaurant."

"Twenty dollars of Subway?" said Jeff with disbelief. "That's like ten five dollar foot-longs!"

"Stop doing math, Jeffrey," said Lester, though his eyes were on the gift card. "Only twenty dollars?"

Morgan smiled and nodded, as if he knew this was coming. He slid his fingers to reveal that he held not one, but two cards in his hand. "Twenty dollars _each_."

Lester and Jeff looked at each other, communicating in some silent, telepathic language known only to them. "All right, done!"

"Excellent, guys! Thank you! Just show up within the next couple of days and talk to the Manager. And please don't make her mad, because she's not nearly as understanding as Harry Tang ever was."

* * *

Within a week, things were back to normal. The Nerd Herd was frazzled and gritty, the floors were in need of mopping, and the green shirts were slacking. But there were some new faces that Morgan didn't recognize at first. From the unholy handsomeness of these newcomers, they had to be spies.

"Well, Grimes, it seems you were right," said Beckman. "Civilian scrutiny of the Buy More is now minimal, as it should be. And your mission will be an ongoing one."

"Thank you, General. And, what mission is that, exactly?"

"The smooth running of this front for our covert operations here in Burbank," she as she handed something to Morgan.

Picking it up, Morgan was shocked to see a name tag that said 'Morgan Grimes – General Manager.'

"Congratulations, Mr. Grimes. Don't make me regret this," Beckman said dangerously before walking away.

Morgan took a moment to compose himself. "Wow! I have a job that has 'General' in its name! Score!" Morgan affixed the name tag to his green shirt, which he would be replacing as soon as he got home. He turned around.

"Oh my God! Don't do that!" he said to the strikingly beautiful brunette in a Nerd Herd outfit who had suddenly appeared in front of him. "Seriously, you have give me a bit of room to notice you before you…"

"Mr. Grimes? The new manager?"

"Uh, yes. That's me. And, you are?"

"I'll be acting as the main liaison between the civilian and covert operations at this facility. I'm going to be the one making sure that things go smoothly so that nothing and no one finds itself out of place."

"That's, uh, good to know," said Morgan as he extended his hand. "And please, call me Morgan."

The woman took his hand in an unbelievably firm grip. "You can call me Greta, Mr. Grimes," she said without a hint of emotion other than a bit of possible disdain.

* * *

Sarah was finishing packing her gear down in Castle, preparing to depart to stake out the Weaver residence when Casey appeared in the door. "We have a problem, Walker."

"What is it, Casey?" asked Sarah. "Is Chuck in danger?"

"Could be," said Casey, which made Sarah nervous. He wasn't making a wisecrack remark about her attachment to Chuck, which was troubling enough. "I saw something on the security cameras at the Buy More. Specifically, one of our agents who's supposed to make the covert and civilian operations play nice together," he said as he pulled up footage of the store.

"There," he said, freezing an image at the Nerd Herd desk. "You see her, Walker?"

"Yeah, I see her," said Sarah. The woman with the name tag, 'Greta,' was virtually identical to the girl who had kidnapped Chuck along with Sarah Connor, who had taken several bullets and not even flinched. Even with a bulletproof vest, anyone would flinch. And now, she had somehow infiltrated the CIA and the NSA. "We have a problem."

* * *

The song is 'Bad to the Bone' by George Thorogood & the Destroyers.

I do not own Chuck or Terminator or the characters from either franchise.

Many Thanks to KaelynnD for beta-reading this chapter!

Reviews, comments, criticisms, suggestions, etc. are always welcome.

Enjoy!


End file.
